for the door, taking one last look back. Six years ago, she couldn’t have imagined this moment.
Now she is awake.
The door creaks as she pushes it open. She closes it carefully behind her. She takes slow, careful steps away from the cabin and when she reaches the trees, she runs.
When she reaches the house, the lights are off.
Lev hasn’t woken, he hasn’t alerted Casey.
Her heart could burst with the relief of it; another sign things are going her way.
She looks into the windows, the Great Room. Atara stretched out on the floor. She lets herself inside. Atara raises her head and Bea runs her hand briefly over her coat, stilling her. She hurries down the hall to Emmy’s room, opening the door and stepping inside.
Her daughter is asleep, bathed in the glow of her nightlight. Bea moves to her, careful not to disturb her before committing this image to memory: her small, perfect daughter that she made, so peaceful, about to meet her mother for the very first time.
Her eyes fill with tears.
This is love.
MARCH 2018
“Emmy,” I whisper urgently. “Emmy, put your shoes on.”
She stares up at me sleepily, confused. I sense a meltdown and move fast, throwing her coat around her shoulders then grabbing her arms, pulling them through the sleeves a little too roughly. It distracts her, temporarily; none of this makes sense.
“Wanna sleep,” she says.
“You will, you will, honey. We’re going on a…” I glance over my shoulder, at her closed bedroom door, and listen for any sounds in the hall. “We’re going on an adventure and everyone’s waiting for you. I just need you to get your shoes on—”
I grab them and try to force the rubber boots on her feet. She shrieks so loudly in response that my heart stops. Never mind the shoes. The coat is enough. I pull the hood over her head while she squirms and whines and then I lift her in my arms and she loses her mind, yelling, NO! NO! NO! Everything’s out the window. I just have to hope I have enough of a head start. I open the door and step into the empty hall and the sudden change of scenery quiets her.
We make it to the front door when I hear my name.
“Lo?”
The light goes on. Casey is there. She stares at me and Emmy, a shadow crossing her face, looking, for all the world, like she’s seen this before.
“Explain this to me,” Lev says.
Foster rips Emmy from my arms, carrying her back to bed, murmuring assurances in her ears. It’s okay, baby, it was a fun game and now it’s bedtime. Casey stands at the front door, her arms crossed, blocking one way out. Lev has stationed himself in front of the other, the expanse of windows. I stare past him to the cold night outside. Casey called him from the house and I watched as he emerged from the trees, nothing in his eyes. Foster’s footsteps sound his return. He steps inside the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
“Explain this to me, Lo,” Lev says again.
“Where is Bea?”
He frowns, looking to Casey and Foster, before turning his attention back to me. He crosses the room and my heart beats harder, faster, the closer he gets.
“What’s happened to you?” he asks.
He brings his hand to my chin, tilting my face left and right as though he could find the answer there. His touch sends a jolt of panic through me that I can barely breathe against.
My body trembles.
He feels it tremble.
“What happened to Bea?” I ask.
“What kind of question is that?”
I can’t stand his touch anymore. I raise my arms, to push him back but he catches my wrists in his hands and holds them tight. I wince, and in response to my pain, he tightens his hold.
“I see you,” I say faintly.
His eyes never leave mine. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“What did you do to her?”
Casey makes a soft, scoffing noise behind me.
“What’s she talking about?” Foster asks.
“Is it Paul?” Lev asks. “Were you talking to Paul again?”
“Again?” Casey asks.
“She’s weak,” Lev says to them, his eyes still on me. “Many will come in my name and lead you astray, Lo. Who has led you away from me?”
“Bea,” I say.
He lets go of me. I make a sprint for the front door.
“Foster,” Lev says sharply, and then Foster’s arms have me, holding me in place. His grip is impossible and I know better than to fight it; I go limp. He lets